Ne Cede Malis
by Melodious Muse
Summary: Danielle is a secret Intelligencer for England, deemed one of the best by the Guild.However, during a quest in a foreign country, Danielle is faced with a question of morality: save her new friends or save herself? POTC Characters in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_This story takes place after Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, with the idea that Dead Man's Chest will never take place. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 1: French Men**

The heavy door slammed against the bedroom walls as the passionately embraced couple propelled into the barely lit room. His hands roamed all over her body as hers ran through his wavy, dark hair, their lips crushed together as they stumbled further into the room; their bodies so close, the heat between them so intense. They could hear the sweet tune of the town orchestra playing one of Beethoven's romantic symphonies, the agonizingly slow song out of sync with their fast, scandalous movements.

It was a horrible mood killer.

Groaning with frustration as the music rang louder through the room, the man reached behind him and forcefully shut the door. They were encased in darkness as they breathlessly broke free from each other, he intimately leaning his forehead onto hers as they gazed into each other's eyes.

The woman, an English beauty with her chestnut-colored hair flowing gracefully over her shoulders in loose summer curls, brought her hand to the mans lips, tantalizingly tracing it, her gaze never wavering from his. He caught her hands as they began trailing down his neck, and brought it to his lips. He could feel her quiver as he placed butterfly kisses along the palm of her hands, could feel the excitement radiating from her as he lifted her from the floor and pinned her against the cherry-colored door. Her arms gripped his shoulders tightly as he kissed the top of her bosom; her groans of pleasure echoing through the room as his fingers erotically traced circles around her nipples, the friction of her ball gown rubbing against her sensitive skin and his lips on her breasts made her moan with want.

"Oh, Capitaine." she gasped over and over again, as his lips began their slow ascent to her swollen lips. He could feel her bare legs tightening around his waist as he slowly drove her over the edge with his kisses – he wanted to hear her cry his name, wanted to hear her pleasure as he satiated her, wanted to feel the power he had over her.

"Do your Englishmen pleasure you as I do, mon amant? Or is that why you came to my country? Because you were looking for real men?" he whispered into her ear, his French accent more prominent as his need for satiation grew. He watched her as her bosom heaved up and down, her breath coming out in small puffs – she was almost falling out of her floral gown now pushed up to the top of her thighs.

"Don't stop, monsieur. Please,", she said, running her hands through his curly brown hair. "Go on."

" Je m'apelle Henri. Remember it when you scream my name tonight.", he said between kisses as he carried her to his bed in the center of the room. She could feel the muscles in his arms bulge as his hands gripped her thighs, could feel his hard body tighten as she kissed the space below his ear.

"Have I told you how much I enjoy meeting men of high rank in the military? You are all masculine," she whispered into his right ear as she nibbled on his earlobe. "I find it very attractive."

"I find you very attractive." he replied, as he pushed them both onto his bed overflowing with fiery red sheets, grinding his pelvis into hers. "Can you tell?"

She gave no verbal answer, but her hurried actions spoke for her. He chuckled as she ripped his newly pressed uniform shirt apart, the small white buttons flying in every direction as she ran her nails down his muscular stomach. Her fingertips trailed on the edge of his breeches, her hands centimeters away from his hardness. Knowing that it would be over sooner than he'd like if she caressed it, he flipped her on top of him and sat up. Looking into her brown eyes, he could see the hot passion in them as he began unlacing her gown.

"Undress for me." he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with the strength of ten men. "I like to see my women before I bed them."

With a raised eyebrow, the woman rose before him and with swaying hips, walked away from Henri, her back facing him. Hypnotized by her sexuality, Henri licked his lips as his imaginations ran free with dirty thoughts of what he could do to this woman tonight. He caught her devilish gaze as she looked over her shoulder at him, her full, rouge red lips pouting as she spoke.

"Have you ever had an Englishwoman, Henri?"

"Several, but none as lovely as you, mademoiselle."

"Oh?" she questioned as she pulled one arm free from her gown, "So you've been to my country?"

"Yes. Important business with a friend of mine who had some information. We traveled to several cities and the scenery was fantastic, but definitely more enjoyable now." he replied with a smirk on his face as she freed her other arm from her gown. Mon dieu, he thought as she dropped her dress, the woman was all female with her full breasts pushed up from the beige corset, small waist, and thin chemise.

"What sort of business? Military work?" she asked as she began walking back towards him, teasing him by slowly pulling a strap of her chemise down.

"Dangerous work." he replied as he grabbed her and flipped her onto the bed, unwilling to wait any longer to have her. He could feel her breasts crushed up against his chest as he raised her arms above her head on the mattress. He swept down to suckle her full lips, and he could feel her warmth as she wrapped her bare legs around him once more. "Does that excite you?"

"Incredibly." she whispered, her voice husky and laced with sexual tension. She flipped Henri over, this time, sitting on top of him with her legs on either of his sides. "Do you want to know what else excites me?" she asked as she bent down towards him, giving him a full view of her bosom.

"What else excites you?" he asked her, his eyes closed as she placed soft kisses along his neck.

"Hearing a man scream my name."

His eyebrows raised after hearing that – no woman before had ever said that to him before, and he fingered the top of her corset, touching her breast slightly as he asked her his next question, his voice slightly husky.

"And what is your name, mademoiselle?"

She looked at him with her heated gaze as she slowly massaged his scalp with her left hand, a cynical smile plastered onto her face. Bringing her right hand to her back as if to unlace her corset, she wiggled her eyebrows devilishly. Impatient with her slower actions, Henri bent forward to rip the corset from her body when he suddenly felt a stab of pain in the center of his chest.

He gave a slight gasp as the pain increased; he fell backwards from the woman. A knife was protruding from his chest, and blood as red as his sheets poured out of the wound onto his military uniform. He gasped for air as blood filled his lungs, and attempted to push the woman aside to call for help, but the woman grabbed his face and stared straight into his eyes angrily.

"My name is Danielle. Remember it the next time you and your dead friend Gerard betray England, you sodding traitor." she whispered harshly to him as she pulled the knife from his chest and sunk it deep into his heart. "Remember that."

She watched as the life disappeared from his eyes, and pulled the knife from his breathless body once more. She wiped the bloodied knife on his grey uniform, and slid it back into its sheath underneath the back of her corset. Quickly dressing and lacing her gown, she gazed at Henri once more before disappearing into the night filled with soft tunes of romance and hope.

"Causarum justia et misericordia, ne cede malis ac fiat justitia. Volente Deo, vivat Guild." she whispered as she slipped out of his room and walked back downstairs to the dancing crowds.

Her quest was complete for tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

Please Review. 

**Chapter 2: **

The night's grey fog slowly lulled in, filling the English streets with mystery and danger as heavy rain slapped upon the cobble-stoned road. The ominous trees howled a nightmarish tune as strong winds led their branches through a torrential dance, puddles were scattered here and there. Nearby, the shadow of a middle-aged man could be seen through the window of his mansion. A military figure – to be more specific, a highly ranked, wealthy Navy man as one could tell by his rigid stance and dark blue jacket embroidered with gold thread. By his side, a flickering candle shone. He seemed troubled, having been there for some time – standing and staring, waiting, watching the wild storm before him pass.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder sounded, a blaze of light lit the dark sky. He could hear a nearby tree sizzle with heat as it fell to the ground, struck down by a single bolt of fire from the Gods. He could see the shadow of a cloaked figure quietly entering his study, could see the woman's hands when she grasped the handle of her sheathed sword, could feel her slowly creep behind him. She was circling him like a predator circled a prey in waiting, and he had nothing to defend himself with.

"You're late."

The cloaked woman stilled, surprised by the man's announcement. She dropped her hand from her sword, and let out a string of curses as she angrily untied her wet cloak and slung it over one of his chairs. He watched as she pulled a bag out of her breech pockets and threw it down on his desk, still muttering curses unheard of, even on merchant ships. He smiled and chuckled softly, his problems momentarily forgotten.

Ah, to be two hundred silver coins richer. He could definitely buy those ribbons his daughters had been eying in the market tomorrow.

" I really do enjoy this game, Danielle. Although I don't see the point on your part. You'll never catch me off my guard. I am good at what I do, not to brag. Of course. I'm sure you do well sometimes as well."

"Oh, bugger off Richard. If I lose anymore, you'll be the reason why I'll have to live off the streets and beg. Then you'll be a miserable, lonely man because I won't be here to work with you." Danielle replied as she unhooked the belt around her waist that held her sword.

"You could always forfeit and live in shame, knowing you couldn't best a middle-aged man at a little game." Richard said matter-of-factly, turning to face his Intelligencer as she attempted to wrench all of the rainwater out of her hair.

"Not until the day I die, my friend. Not until then."

Richard paused, nodded, and then turned his back to her, choosing to walk to his desk instead of reply. Mentioning death was bad luck in their business.

It happened all too often.

"It still doesn't dismiss the fact that you were late."

Staring at her Informant as he gazed at the pile of documents on his desk, Danielle straightened her shoulders and walked towards the fireplace glowing brightly as it burned. Standing near it, she shivered as the heat began to warm her chilled body. The joking was over for tonight. It was time for business.

"Sorry." she replied. "I ran into some trouble during my travel back to England."

He stood straight after hearing her announcement; his eyebrows raised, the wrinkles on the sides of his eyes deepening as he narrowed them, looking at her.

"What sort of trouble?"

"Several of Henri's men found his body sooner than I thought they would." she said, sighing. She leaned left her shoulder onto the mantel above the fireplace, and rubbed her aching right shoulder as she retold the story. "They followed me back to the inn that night. Burst into my room, swords and fists drawn."

Pausing, she unconsciously brought her hand to her waist and touched the inflamed self-stitched cut one of Henri's men had given her. It wasn't a dangerously deep cut, but she knew that the wet clothes rubbing against the unbandaged wound would cause an infection.

"And?"

"And I took care of them." Danielle answered, her eyes meeting finally meeting his. "I always take care of them."

He nodded, taking note of her hand rubbing her side. She was favoring her left side, he thought. It was incredulous; her need to always hide her injuries, her never letting down her guard, her always suspicious of everyone's actions. Taking a good look at her through the corner of his eye, he inwardly sighed a sad sigh.

God, she was so young, he thought. To have to live this life of danger, to sign away her life to be death's partner – it was for the good of England, yes, but she was only a child. She couldn't be any older than his oldest daughter, and his oldest daughter wasn't that old – she was only nineteen, and worrying about her next ball gown when Danielle was trying to save her country.

The life was disappearing from her eyes. He could tell just by looking at her this night, all the murders, the violence, and the anger. They played this game; joked around, pretended everything was fine when it wasn't.

She was getting tired. Later, she would start making mistakes. One of those mistakes may cause an injury; one may cost her her life. This happened to everyone who joined the Guild.

And there was not one damn thing he could do about it. She had signed an oath three years ago, and they would hold her to it. If she didn't follow through for the Guild, they would ultimately take care of her the way she took care of Henri's men.

"You should see Dr. Edwards tomorrow morning." he said, pointing at the hand grasping her side.

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order, and you will go see him tomorrow.", he shouted, his voice raising with every word.

Danielle stepped back, bewildered. Richard never raised his voice at her, he was always calm and full of jokes. He was all she had in this world, the only family in her life. Why was he angry at her?

"Look, I know I should have been on my guard at the inn, but I am perfectly fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"It's not – you don't – just go. Alright?", he asked, agitated and rubbing his temples. "Just go see Dr. Edwards."

"Alright." she whispered. "I'll go. I'm sorry I let you down."

Richard walked to her, his arms opened to hug her. He felt ashamed of himself for shouting at her. She looked so guilty, so alone; rubbing her hands together, unable to meet his gaze. He remembered the first time he briefly met her, eight years old and already alone in the world. He was the youngest man ever to be inducted as an Informant at the age of thirty, and she was beginning her training at the campgrounds. She was so small, so meek he didn't think she'd make it though the lessons.

It turned out she was one of the best. Eight years later after she graduated from the Guild's academy, she – with all her fieriness and vivacity – was passed on to him.

But she was more than just an Intelligencer. Danielle was family. She was like his daughter, and every time she came to his house, he gave her a quest he knew could kill her.

What kind of father knowingly sent his daughter to death's lair?

"I'm sorry, Danielle. I'm not angry at you, you haven't let me down." he said, holding her small frame tight in his arms. "I just worry, even though you don't want me to."

"I'm fine. I'll be fine." Danielle said, hugging him back. "You don't have to worry. What happened in France won't happen again."

It would, he thought. Whenever he sent her on a quest, there was always a chance she wouldn't return.

"It's my job to worry." he said, smiling sadly at her. "Go see the doctor tomorrow and make sure everything is alright. Promise?"

"Promise."

They paused for a moment, just taking everything in; happy that all was safe and to some sense, normal. Danielle closed her eyes, basking in the comfort and the warmth.

"The Guild has another quest for you."

Opening her eyes, she stepped back from her Informant. She had just gotten back from one, and they already wanted her to go on another murder run?

"So soon?"

"This one's important to them, to England."

"All of them are." she said.

"True. Have you read the dailies lately?"

"Yes. Apparently, the Queen's son has been involved in some scandal and the theatre is supposedly not as grand as it was back in its glory days."

"Actually, I was rather hoping you might have caught word about the rising tensions between our country and Spain while in France."

"They didn't post that in the French dailies, but it's no surprise. When are we not? If it's not something happening here, it's something in the Caribbean being fought for."

"Again, true. But this quest is a bit different."

"That's funny. I thought all murder was just murder. What? They want me to save someone instead? Perhaps some noble was kidnapped in Spain and they want me to save him?"

"You're partially correct." Richard answered gravely, his voice tinged with worry. "They want you to save our country, Danielle. We may be on the verge of war."

"What?", she gasped, her eyes wide with shock, a million questions flowing through her mind. She knew her country's relationship with Spain was rocky at best, but war? Had the Spanish gone mad?

"We had a man in Spain, an Intelligencer who was gathering information for us. Just a regular, no-complications venture to keep an eye out on the Spanish. He'd been there for several months."

They want me to stop a war, she thought taking deep breaths in and out, trying to calm her nerves. How the bloody hell was she going to stop a war? What on Earth were those arses doing sending an Intelligencer to Spain when the relations were already bad as they were?

"And?"

"And the last time he sent word to us, he told us he had discovered several packets of strange documents on one of their General de Brigada's desk. Packets of information – specific information – concerning the whereabouts of our stored weaponry." Richard seethed, "Danielle, those whereabouts were supposed to be top secret, something we had for war purposes. They know where those are, they know about the new cannons we've been making for naval defense, they know every bloody military move we've made since last year!"

"I don't understand." she said, her voice now stronger after the shock. "If the information was secret, how did they know about it? Are you sure? Was the Intelligencer absolutely sure that it was information about the English militia?"

"Without a doubt.", he replied coldly, now standing by her side staring at the fireplace sizzle with an anger that couldn't even begin to match his anger. "But that's not it."

"You mean there's bloody more? Fuck mate, this quest is bad enough as it is, and there's more?", she asked, now pacing the length of his study. This world was bloody mad.

He nodded, "He told us that a day prior to when he wrote the letter, he intercepted a letter made to the Capitan General. It was from England."

She stopped in her tracks. So there was a traitor. She'd cut off all the fingers he used to write the letter before she killed the sodding fool, she vowed. "Do we know who sent it?"

"No. Not yet."

"Is that what you want me to do? Find the traitor?"

"Yes, but that's not your main job as of now. There was something written in that letter that no one – unless they were high-ranked within our military or a part of the Guild – was supposed to know about. We don't even have a record of it, and very few know about it."

"What happened? Was it a quest gone wrong?"

"They knew about Zelaya.", he answered after having paused for some time, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whoever sent that letter, they knew about the assassination of Eduardo Zelaya. They knew we ordered it within the Guild, and they know who carried it out."

Her entire world halted as her heart dropped to her stomach. She backed away from Richard, tremendous shivers shaking her thin body. Eduardo Zelaya was a high-ranking Captain within their military that sent some of his soldiers to England to spy on them; they had to kill him. She had to kill him. They ordered her to.

"What am I going to do?", she whispered frantically. "They'll come after me! They'll come after you! My God, your family! They're in danger!"

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I'm about to be assassinated and you want me to calm down? Your family is in danger because of me! I –"

"Will you listen!", he shouted angrily, shaking her shoulders. "I know you're in danger! I bloody know that, but we need to be calm. We need to remain in control and focused. Now listen, the letter never got to the Capitan. Our intelligencer took it, and the packet with our military's information, and escaped three months ago.

"I don't understand. If the Spanish haven't seen it, and he's escaped, then why -"

"He was captured. While sailing back from the Caribbean. That's where he went to hide for several weeks, but pirates plundered the merchant ship he was on."

"So he died? So what happened to the packets?"

"Raoul Vicente has them."

"Who is he?"

"The pirate who plundered the ship. One of the sea's most bloodthirsty thieves. The Capitan's second cousin."

She whistled, shaking her head. There was a pirate in the Capitan's family? "Talk about bad blood in the family."

"Was bad blood. We have on good word that he's trying to make right by returning the said packet to his cousin, the Capitan. We can't let that happen."

"So you want me to take care of that bastard?"

"The Guild wishes you to do so. They want you to fix this problem."

She nodded, looking at him with determined eyes while picking up her sword once more. "I suppose it's time to go hunting in the Caribbean then."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: **

The marketplace was busy today, as it was always.

Walking slowly with no seeming intention, the man gazed about as children of every age were running about in the streets, laughing and chasing one another as their parents walked from shop to shop, debating over unreasonably high prices.

Yes, he thought, everything seemed just as it was supposed to.

Giving a slight smile to the vendor, he stopped at the fruit stand he visited weekly and picked up a red apple; an image of normality to many – a man buying fruit, but to those who knew – a safe signal to approach.

" Sir, that apple looks delicious, and unusually red." said a voice behind him, the words lacking any form of emotion.

It was like clockwork – their signal, he thought as he turned and with no surprise, came face to face with one of his most trusted followers.

"Yes, red as blood.", he replied casually, smoothly as if he'd said it more than a million times.

Giving the apple back to the vendor, he continued walking down the market, the other man following his actions.

"You're looking quite good these days.", he said after several minutes of silence.

"So are you."

"How is she doing?"

"Danielle? Fine. Your orders were followed – she's going after Vicente.", the follower replied, his voice coated with repressed anger.

"You seem unhappy about this."

"She's a child. She's done good work for us, for our country, and now you're sending her to her death. You brought her into this world, and now you're sacrificing her."

"If we let her live, thousands of people will die. They want her dead, you know that. And what better way than to send her to them?"

"Because of what she did for us! Because you ordered her to kill Zelaya! You know as well as I do that we didn't need to kill him, that he was not sending spies to England. It was an unnecessary order – one that was only completed only because of your affair with his wife. I lied to her for you. I did you a favor, she did you a favor, and this is how you repay her?"

"Keep your voice down.", said the leader in a hushed voice, his every word clipped as they turned into an alley. "This is all part of your job. You knew what you were getting into when you gave your oath."

"I did not sign on to be a traitor to my country."

"And I did not come here to have you blast my actions. I will not be questioned. Do you understand? Or would you rather I tell her the truth about how she became parentless?"

Silence ensued as the two men face each other, both seething with quiet anger, the follower's jaws clenched with boiling frustration. "No.", he forcefully whispered.

"Good. Now I know you told her the ship would be waiting for her when she finishes her job, but make sure it doesn't."

"How will she escape then?"

"She won't."

* * *

Bloody, blasted bleeding hell, it was freezing tonight.

Standing upon the deck of _The Valor_, Danielle hugged her thin, worn, grey petticoat closer to her body, attempting to block the stinging winds that blew fiercely by. Her untamed hair whipped wildly about, dancing with the wintry wind that blew in every direction.

Pushing a strand of hair that had flung itself into her eyes, she walked to the edge of the ship and glanced at the black waves that pitched themselves against the weathered wood. She rubbed her cold hands together, could see a puff of frost exit her mouth as she gazed at the starless sky heavily covered with foreboding, dark fog.

It wasn't unusual for her to wake during the middle of the night – as an Intelligencer, her need to constantly be ready for an attack meant she never really slept anyways. She didn't miss it – the sleep, that is. It was when all of her demons came out.

But this night was different from the others. Instead of being kept awake from her nightmares, she was awakened through the dark feelings of dread that she couldn't shake away.

Something wasn't right about this quest.

"You'll be sailing to Havana, where the Capitan lives. The Guild believes that Vicente will be stopping by there for the annual ball their governor holds.", Richard had told her during their last meeting after she had come back from France.

"So I'll be going uninvited?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, how am I going to get in then?"

"How is your Spanish?"

Good enough, she remembered replying. Richard had nodded, and continued with the details of her quest. She was to impersonate Senorita Maria Santos, a young wealthy widow from Spain whose husband had been murdered one night in their house. Apparently, a robber had snuck in during the middle of the night and while fighting for control of Senor Santos' gun, the trigger had been pulled. The robber-turned-murderer left in such a hurry he forgot to take his bag of the Santos' gold with him. Now, Senorita Maria Santos was sailing to Havana for the first time, with hopes of moving there for a better life.

How convenient, Danielle thought sarcastically.

"Can't sleep tonight?" a voice called out behind her.

Turning around, she smiled as she watched the middle-aged man guide the ship through the dark waters

"Captain Smithers, we've been sailing together for – what? Almost three years?"

"Actually, it's been four. Since last week."

Oops.

"In any case, you should know by now that I don't really need much sleep to get by."

"I'm not sure that's too good for ya well-bein', missy. When I was your age - "

"When you were my age, you loved your sleep. Yes, I do believe I know this story, Captain.", she replied with a slight smirk.

"Now don't you be getting smart with me.", Captain Smithers said, false sternness lacing his voice as his eyes crinkled with humor. "Did Doctor Edwards see your wound today?"

"Yes.", she answered, pausing a bit to think. "It's a bit strange, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Having the doctor sail with us. He's never done that before."

"It's cause the Guild don't want you to be getting hurt, that's all."

"Perhaps.", she said, trailing off slightly. Something was still bothering, and she couldn't figure out what it was. "How many more days until we reach Havana?"

"Around two if we get good wind."

"And you know you'll be docked at a secret port for two weeks, right? I'll need you to wait there for my quick escape."

"I know, darling. Richard informed us."

Danielle nodded, glad that everyone knew their part in this quest. It could turn disastrous quickly if they didn't, she thought as she wrapped her coat tighter against her small frame and walked to where Smithers was standing. She really couldn't believe how cold it was out here. Wasn't it supposed to be warm in the Caribbean?

"Captain, have you ever been to the Caribbean?"

"Oh many times, lad. When I was young."

"What's it like?"

"Well, it's a long story missy."

* * *

It was magnificently hot in the Caribbean today.

With the sun beating down upon the dark sails and the gentle waves coaxing his equally black ship forward, the young captain at the wheel swayed almost drunkenly back and forth as he whistled a tune, and muttered several "yo hos" underneath his breath.

Feeling a drop of sweat cascade down his forehead, he brought his gloved hand upwards, swiping the wetness that threatened to fall into his kohl-rimmed brown eyes. He could feel his heart hammering with excitement, with him and his crewmen and woman being so close to their destination, could feel himself almost smiling and clapping his hands with the same glee a young child felt on Christmas day.

"Oh, but this is so much better.", he yelled aloud to his crew in a singsong voice, knowing his men would vocally cry out their agreement.

The crew only stared at him in bewilderment.

"Right, wasn't telling you what I was thinking before. Get back to work, you scoundrels!", he yelled, and spotting the only woman aboard his ship walking out of her room, he cried, "And hide the rum! And the fire!"

"Sod off Jack.

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow, really. See me effects? My hand on this wheel?"

"You know I saved both of our lives by burning the –"

"Don't say it!"

"Rum."

He could only give an anguished cry. It burned him how calm she was about the whole situation. Really, it did.

"God save dear Lizzie's soul. She didn't really mean to burn your heavenly liquid."

Elizabeth could only roll her eyes. The man was so dramatic.

"Where's my husband?"

"Young William is down below, preparing for our grand entrance into the Havana society."

She nodded, "He said you were going to impersonate a dead man."

"A supposed dead man. See, the way I'm thinking, is that the Capitan and his men will be so surprised to see a dead man alive that they won't really think twice about if he's dead or alive, since he is supposedly alive and standing in front of him, savvy?"

"Not…really.", she replied, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. What on Earth was that drunken man going on about?

"And Will will be my traveling brother. Once the ball is up and about and drinks are all around, people will be too busy to notice us stealing the map. And then we will be richer than the King himself!", Jack said, throwing his hands in the air while stumbling towards her. He smiled, one hand rubbing his beaded beard while the other draped itself around the young lady's shoulders. Her very nice, and very feminine shoulders.

"Tis a shame," he said under his breath. She would have made a bloody good pirate. On his boat. In his bed. Plundering…treasures of various kinds, he thought, enamored with the wild images racing through his mind, a dreamy, far-off look unknowingly crossing his face. He chuckled. Ahh, what they could accomplish together.

"What is?"

"Hmm? Oh nothing.", he said, smiling coyly at her. "Just thinking about the treasure. Imagine Lizzie, mountains of Spanish diamonds, plundered by the likes of us. It's a beautiful picture, isn't it?"

"We're not here for the treasure, Jack and you know if we could, we'd do this without stealing from anyone. We're only here for the – "

"Adventure?"

"Yes.", she said, turning to walk downstairs to find her husband. "There won't be any trouble will there?"

"Unless the Misses Santos shows up? No. She's in Spain.", he answered while smiling slyly, his golden teeth shining from the sun's glare. "But darling – you forget. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Trouble is my middle name."


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm thinking… I need some incentive to write. Please read and review._

**Chapter 4:**

The Caribbean sun shone with fervor today, and his messenger was late.

Feeling a drop of sweat slide down the side of his unshaven face, he took the thin glasses perched upon his nose off and wiped the sweat off his tanned face with his homemade handkerchief. He chuckled when he saw the dirty imprint upon the usually clean cloth. If only his Informant could see him, he thought, the normally pristine gentleman dressed in the latest fashion now sweating like a pig in Havana.

What he would give to feel the cool wind upon his face once more. But alas, this was a special quest his Informant had given it, and one he planned to fulfill, he thought, turning when he heard a twig snap behind him.

"You're late.", he said to the young man facing him.

"Sorry sir.", said the teenager in a heavy Spanish accent, intimidated as he stared up to the Englishman's glaring brown eyes. "There was traffic at the market, and mi mama needed my help."

"You're on the verge of committing treason to your country, and you were worried about your mother?"

"We need the money sir. My brothers and sisters go to bed hungry - "

"I don't care about your family. Is there a message for me from my Informant?"

"Yes.", replied the teenager, handing the Englishman a sealed folded letter and pushing a strand of sweat-soaked hair away from his eyes. These foreigners were always so rude, he thought as he watched the man read the letter, eying the expensive clothes he wore. The ruby ring on his right finger would pay for a month's food alone. He wondered if he would be paid today – it was his mama's birthday and even though they could never buy food from the bakery, he knew his mama liked the bread there.

"This came directly from my Informant? Did he say anything else about the letter?"

"He said he wished for you to take care of it immediately."

"I see.", said the Englishman, storing the letter in his pocket. With his free hand, he reached into another pocket and pulled out a small cloth pouch filled with coins, tossing it to the boy. "Tell him it'll be done."

* * *

The carriage bounced up and down constantly as the horses sprinted rapidly through the forest roads.

"We're nearly there, Senorita Santos!", cried the driver breathlessly, his voice slightly muffled by the scarf that covered his nose and mouth from the flying sand dust kicked up by the horses' hooves. "The Capitan will be very happy to see you!"

"Gracias senor! But take your time! I wish to arrive still alive!", Danielle shouted, sticking her head out of the window.

Her driver laughed an insanely high pitched laugh, and hearing his response, she stuck her head back into the carriage and collapsed into the cushioned seats covered with a red, velvety cloth.

She was telling the truth, she scowled. The crazy man's driving was making her already empty stomach queasy, and she thought riding _The Valor_ during stormy weather and tumultuous waves were unbearable. This was easily three times worse, she thought as she groaned.

Why was there never any rum around whenever she really needed it?

Sighing, she grabbed the black cloth fan she carelessly threw aside before and waved it in front of her face, hoping the cool air would calm her jittery nerves.

At least the Guild had the decency to dress her in light cloth in the current Havana fashion, she thought staring down at the dark red silk dress that contrasted with her now coal-black wavy hair. She would have to thank the doctor for his brilliant invention of the coal mixture for her hair – if she had walked into Havana with her normal light brown hair, she would have stuck out like a cleric in a Tortuga pub.

Now wouldn't that be funny, she thought, smiling at the insanity of it all until suddenly, she was thrown from her seat. Her body forcefully hit the floor of the carriage, as her head connected painfully with the brass door handle.

"We've arrived to the Capitan's hacienda, Miss. Look, if you will.", said the driver, climbing down from his seat atop of the carriage outside. She winced at his loud voice.

"Oh, we've arrived Senorita. Look outside. Look how beautiful it is, look at the Capitan's rose gardens and the daisies and oh, look how the bloody sun is shining so bloody brightly!", she said in a whispered voice all the while mocking him. "A warning would have been nice!"

Where on Earth had Smithers hired this man? She was definitely going to give him a piece of her mind when she got back to the ship. Picking herself up, she quickly fixed her hair, and rearranged her dress, dusting the dirt off of it as the door to her carriage swung open.

"Maria!", bellowed the young man happily, him being sharply dressed in a white military uniform. A smile crossed his face as he gave Danielle his hand, helping her down from the carriage.

"Capitan, it is so good to see you after so long.", she said gently, wanting to act ladylike and at the same time, awed and unable to take her eyes off of him. He was a handsome man, she thought as she stared up at his strong jaw and watched the muscles on his arms bulge as he helped the driver with her traveling chests. His soulful brown eyes combined with his tanned skin and dark hair oozed sensuality, and the shamefully snug uniform did nothing to hide his lean, muscular body.

It was unfortunate he was the enemy, and his cousin was going to die.

"How many times must I tell you – it is Gabriel to my good friends. None of this Capitan business!", he replied, lightly scolding her in a joking manner, after paying gold coins to the driver and sending him off. Danielle was glad that sodding man was gone, slightly scowling as she rubbed the ache in the back of her neck.

Laughing lightly to disguise her pain, she responded saucily, "Oh, not so many more times, Capitan. Don't you like my name for you? It makes you so mysterious and handsome, you with your dark looks, my friend."

Just because she was going to kill his cousin, didn't mean she couldn't have any fun with the Capitan himself. Besides, Maria Santos' husband had already passed anyways.

Gabriel gave a short laugh. He put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her towards his overly abundant stone house. Using his free arm, he waved to the guards standing in front of the elegant wooden doors lined with stained glass of almost every color and in seconds, they ran past them – carrying her luggage to his house.

So the guards were competent, she thought, secretly watching them out of the corner of her eyes. She was prepared for that, especially since his cousin, Vicente, was deemed to arrive any day.

"Are you tired, senorita? You must've had a terribly exhausting trip. My soldiers tell me that the weather was not so pleasant several nights ago."

God, and his voice, she thought, her insides jumping with excitement whenever he spoke. His charming, silky voice would be her undoing.

"No, not at all. The weather was terribly unpleasant, but nothing unmanageable. It was rather fun, the trip. Now I know why you seamen constantly long to sail the seas. It's freeing, is it not?"

"I must agree with you.", he replied, opening the front door to his house for her. When she stepped inside, she was in complete awe – it was entirely different from the outside of the abode. Filled with cool air, dark cherry furniture, a hanging chandelier, a seemingly endless winding staircase lined with a rug made from the finest threads, and other expensive decor, Gabriel's house was nothing short of sophistication at its best. And this was only the front of the house.

"Your house – it's amazing! It's beautiful, Gabriel.", she whispered as she walked forward and pretended to gaze all around her.

With one glance, she could already see there were limited exits in the Capitan's house. There were no guards within the living space, but looking outside the windows, she could see the shadowy outline of some of the Capitan's men as they circled the building.

It would be near impossible to steal the documents before the Governor's ball. No, she thought, she'd have to wait until then when the house would be secluded.

"Gracias. I would love to show you the rest of all of this," he said gesturing to the upstairs of his house, "but it is such a lovely day outside. Will you like to see our city? It is beautiful – with the afternoon market and the children playing outside. You will enjoy it, I promise you."

"Oh, but I must straighten out my clothes and carry my things to my room."

"Leave it, I'll have my men and maids do it for you."

"I'm not sure, I don't want to be of any trouble -"

"It won't be.", Gabriel said smoothly, his hand once more guiding her outside the door. She could feel one of his fingers – roughened with calluses – rubbing against the bare skin at the nape of her neck, and she shivered slightly from his touch. "Now, let's enjoy the beautiful day – the sun is out, the wind is blowing, you'll see – Havana is like Spain except more beautiful."

"Well, senor, if you put it that way, we must go see your city then."

"Am I not a good friend?", he replied, giving a whistle to another one of his guards. "We'll need to wait for awhile. The stable boy needs to prepare the horse and carriage for our ride into the city. You know, I would have asked him to wait had I know you were coming so soon, but he said nothing of your showing."

"Oh?", Danielle questioned him lightly. The uneasy feeling she felt on _The Valor_ returned full-force however, with the mention of someone waiting for her. She knew something was wrong with this quest! Had Vicente found out? Were they pretending to welcome her only to kill her in the middle of the night? What was she going to do? How was she going to get back to the ship? Not that she couldn't run it if she had to – she would just prefer not having a pack of guards chasing her when she was.

"Yes. He and his brother rode into town right before you arrived.", he said while watching the carriage in front of them slow to a stop. He moved to open the door, and gestured for her to enter first. She narrowed her eyes slightly, watching his hand as she moved to climb in, and sighed with silent relief when she noticed it weaponless.

"I'm sure I'll be able to meet him later.", she replied nonchalantly as she stepped up and entered the carriage, glad to be out of the sunlight. She worried for nothing – Vicente hadn't figured anything out, she thought, because if she had, she doubted she'd be riding a carriage to the town with Gabriel.

"I must say, your husband looks quite different since the last I saw him. I never knew he was partial to facial hair. What's strange is that I heard news long ago that he had died! And you can image the surprise when he shows up on my door, not dead – "

"My what?", Danielle nearly shouted, spinning around so quickly she nearly knocked Gabriel onto his rear. Wide-eyed, she came face to face with her enemy as he looked at her with surprise.

"Your husband, Alejandro. He arrived yesterday night with his brother, Diego. You'll be staying in the same quarters they are."

* * *

"How much are these apples, good sir?"

"Tres Maravedi Senor Santos.", replied the vendor, holding his hands out as the man with the strange, long hair – some beaded, some held down by a dirty red scarf tied around his head – reached into a pocket and pulled out some silver coins. He glanced sideways at the man's friend, watching him as he gazed about the town square. These two men resembled nothing like the men he met from Spain, but as long as they paid for the fruit he was selling – he didn't care where they came from. "Is it true you survived death, senor?"

"Yes, it is.", Senor Santos replied. He clasped his hands together, and leaned closer to the vendor, motioning for him to come closer. The vendor leaned in. "I was very close to dying on a stranded island until I saw these two sea turtles and wrangled them together with the hairs on me back –"

"And you shouldn't forget about the rum", replied the man on his left who was watching the town square. "I'm sure that's the most important part of your rescue story."

"Why, thank you _Diego._ I was just getting to the part where your wife burned all of me rum.", Alejandro replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, the vendor forgotten.

"No!", cried the vendor, a look of shock crossing his face. "Senor Diego's wife burned all of your rum? Such trouble!"

"Exactly! Finally a man who understands my troubles! It's horrible, is it not?", cried Senor Santos. He leaned back towards the vendor. "I pray to the high heavens every night for her, she was so young, she couldn't understand -"

" And we must be taking our leave. Thank you kind sir for the apples.", Diego said, tugging Senor Santos away from the vendor as he walked across the square. They both walked briskly, with Diego slightly dragging his friend away from the market and into an alley. "Jack, what are we doing?

"It's Alejandro, Will. Alejandro Santos. That's me name here. Please do us a favor and don't do anything stupid like calling me Jack. Or even Captain if you will. It might get us killed.", Jack whispered in a soft, demanding tone, the drunkenness normally laced in his voice completely gone and replaced by utter seriousness. In the alley's dark shade, he was a totally different man – one you wouldn't cross when angered, one who wouldn't think twice about running his blade through you if you weren't a friend.

Jack was a dangerous man, Will thought as he watched him walk down the alley, stepping to the beat of the song he was whistling, the seriousness he saw just moments ago replaced by the lighthearted attitude Jack was normally seen in. And he was a completely mad man.

Catching up to Jack, both were blasted with sunlight as they stepped out of the alley together.

"We have to wait for the opportune moment, Diego, to make our move.", Jack whispered softly as they walked down another market street filled with children chasing each other and parents buying food for dinner that night.

"And when will that be?"

"Well. The map to the treasure will be brought to the Govenor's house – a bribe, if you will, for our favorite Capitan.", he leaned over to Will, whispering. "Let's just say he's not as great as our little Norrie is."

Will nodded. So that was why Gabriel had so many guards posted around his house. "So we'll steal the map during the ball?"

"Savvy.", Jack said happily, waving his hands about and stumbling through the streets. He stopped and turned suddenly. Someone had called his name.

"What's wrong, Alejandro?", Will asked, turning with him, his hand already reaching for his sword's hilt.

"Did you hear someone say my name?"

"No. You're probably imagining things. Did you drink rum before we came here?"

"Alejandro!"

"See? There it goes again! And I didn't drink rum before we came here; it's the middle of the day. I'm insulted. I think.", he said, a slight, crooked frown crossing his face.

"That hasn't stopped you before.", Will said, still walking and waving off Jack's claim. He didn't hear anyone calling Jack's name.

"Diego!"

Will turned around again, facing the crowd. Someone was calling their name.

"See? They're calling your name too."

Both men's eyes scanned the crowd, their demeanor turning serious as they tried to find the person calling their names. Suddenly, vibrant commotion began filling the marketplace as everyone rushed to the carriage that stopped at the end of the road. Unable to see through the rushing masses, Jack climbed onto a vendor's stand, his hands shielding his eyes as he gazed across the street. He squinted his eyes as he watched a familiar man come out of the carriage and help a young, beautiful woman out. He motioned to Will.

"Oy! It's Gabriel! He's come to give us that little tour of the island."

Will rushed over to his side. "Who is that with him? I don't recognize her. One of his mistresses, you suppose?"

"Could be. A pretty little bird, isn't she?"

A young woman passing by suddenly stopped in her tracks, and turned to them. She walked until she stood in front of them.

"I heard what you said Senor. You're wrong."

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to offend you, Missy.", Jack said, jumping off of the stand.

"You didn't. I just wanted to tell you she isn't the Capitan's mistress."

"Is she his sister then?" Will asked.

"No, senor. She is the famous Senor Santos' wife from Spain, Senorita Maria Santos.", the young woman whispered. "She is beautiful, is she not."

"The famous Senor Santos' wife from Spain?" Will whispered, glaring at Jack. "The wife who would never come to Havana? The wife who is now with Capitan Gabriel? Our host?"

"Oh, bugger.", whispered Jack, a look of nausea crossing his face as his eyes met with his supposed wife's.

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